


Crumbling Stones and Crashing Waves

by Pen_And_Dagger



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Ruby & Sapphire & Emerald | Pokemon Ruby Sapphire Emerald Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, I cried a little writing this, M/M, SUFFER WITH ME, Very angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 17:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19480288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pen_And_Dagger/pseuds/Pen_And_Dagger





	Crumbling Stones and Crashing Waves

The end of the world is lonelier than the novels made it out to be. Wallace had no ragtag group of experienced survivalists to help out when things got rough. His sole ally was his pistol housing a mere three bullets. He hadn’t found more to reload with in a long time, so he planned to use them only in dire circumstances. 

Looking at him, most would question how he survived in such skimpy attire with hordes of biting undead around practically every corner. Thus far he’s had the advantage of being able to swim for a long time without tiring while the walking bags of decay couldn’t move fast in the water if they didn’t fall apart completely. 

Now, however, he had no water to retreat to in his search for shelter. He struggled to fight off the feelings of loneliness creeping back into his mind. He had been with Steven fairly early during the ordeal, however, his love had gotten separated from him during a particularly chaotic escape. Worry and loneliness had eaten at him ever since. 

Hope remained in his mind that Steven was okay. His love always could pull miracles out of thin air and never failed to impress him. 

Presently, Wallace was prowling through an abandoned school to make sure it was safe enough to rest in for a little time. If there weren’t any zombies he’d block doors and rest in a secure enough room. If there were, he’d look for somewhere else to go. It was a fairly familiar routine when he wasn’t camping in the woods.

As he walked, he could see there were some desks and other furniture already blocking a few doors to the outside. To some degree, it was relieving to see some of the work was already done for him. Another part in him questioned what happened to the people who put the furniture there in the first place. 

The windows were dirty to say the least, but he could see people outside wandering around. Listening closer, he could make out the all too familiar groaning of the undead plaguing the hellish world he was thrust into. 

He made his way down to the basement. He’s seen firsthand what happens when checking other floors was neglected. He could never force the sounds or that unholy smell from his mind and swore that he would never be one of those people. He wouldn’t let himself be caught that far off guard. 

Going down into the boiler room, Wallace gripped his pistol tighter hearing the sound of shuffling feet. He squinted a little in the dark of the room, but he could make out the shape of a person by the furnace. Slowly he moved a little closer, though froze recognizing the person in front of him. 

“Steven…”

Wallace frowned when he could see Steven more clearly. There were tears in a once pristine suit and he could make out patches of blood and decaying flesh. The worst part was Steven’s eyes. Pale blue eyes were dull and lifeless, looking more like a corpse than the love of his life. 

A groan came from Steven’s throat as he moved closer. Wallace bit his lip, raising his pistol. He stared down the barrel, aiming right between Steven’s eyes. He hesitated. He had trouble bringing himself to pull the trigger. 

When he looked at zombie Steven he couldn’t see him as another walking cadaver. He only could see the man he’d loved for years. He only saw the man who was the light of his life for so long that he questioned how he knew true joy before him. His hands trembled trying to keep his hands steady and his vision blurred with tears, feeling like somehow he could have prevented this. 

Slowly he dropped his pistol, letting it drop to the floor with a loud clatter of finality. If he had to go, in the embrace of his love was the way he’d like to do it. He didn’t resist feeling Steven’s nails digging into his arms. 

“I love you until death do us part…” he mumbled as Steven’s teeth tore into the exposed skin of his shoulder.


End file.
